


Finders, Keepers

by River_of_Dreams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (sorta) - Freeform, Case Fic, Families of Choice, Fluff with elements of angst and horror, Fluffy and/or creepy, Folklore, Future Fic, M/M, Original Child Characters, Pairings aren’t in the spotlight, Parenthood, creepy fluff?, mythical creatures, some gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 09:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7678678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/River_of_Dreams/pseuds/River_of_Dreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The case is closed, the monster is dead, two little girls saved, everybody can go home.<br/>The problem is, the girls don’t have a home. Or a family. Or names that would turn up in the widest search Sam can think of.<br/>Maybe that’s not such a bad thing, though.<br/>Maybe those girls could become theirs.<br/>It makes sense, right?<br/>Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finders, Keepers

**Author's Note:**

> Set a few years in the future. Spoiler-free, as long as you know who Castiel and Gabriel are.
> 
> A fair warning: I’m not entirely sure how to tag this for triggers, but there is at least one (non-sexual) nasty situation involving children depicted in this fic and, depending on your tolerance levels, it can approach horror genre, whether you identify with the children or the grown-ups. Honestly, though – I think this fic approached horror genre, decided it looks vaguely threatening, waved at it from a respectful distance and sauntered off into fluff land.
> 
> Btw., if Sam and Dean’s attitudes make you go „wait, what?“ at the beginning, give me a chance to clear the confusion as the fic proceeds. ;)

The girls are asleep, curled up in one ratty motel bed like two abandoned kittens: foreheads pressed together and a tangled mess of limbs between them, just about visible in the faint morning light filtering through the curtains. It somehow makes the news Sam has even worse and he runs his hand through his hair in frustration.

“Nothing. I looked at every white girl that would be between ages two and nine by now, reported missing in the whole U.S. in the past two years and, with the exception of a couple of one-year-olds who look vaguely similar to Lily because all kids that age look vaguely similar to one another, nothing. Far as I can tell, nobody misses them. Ah, and sisters Willow and Lily Thorne or Silverthorne of that age don’t exist, of course.“

Dean smirks. “How about Blueberry?“

Sam gives him a face the suggestion deserves and leaves it without a comment. It was their first clue that there will be a problem when the girls weren’t able – or willing – to tell them their surname. Blueberry was Lily’s first attempt. Silverthorne was her second, which Willow quickly corrected to Thorne, looking as if she was trying to cover her sister’s slip-up. But neither option brought up anything.

“So, what now?“

Something about Dean’s tone is strange as he looks at the girls, his expression unusually soft. Sam shrugs carefully.

“Get them to Jody’s, I guess. She’ll know what to do.“

“You think she’ll take them in?“

“…not really? Dean, she can’t adopt every kid we come across during a case. And these two-“

“These two spent over a year with a monster who screws with kids’ heads and nobody even reported them missing. If they end up in the system, they’ll get split and then they’ll grow up prodded by damn shrinks because who the hell knows what they’ll remember. Or not remember. Do you really want that for them?“

His tone is fierce, protective, and something about it leaves Sam wrongfooted. The intensity perhaps. The situation is new anyway: they were never left with a kid that young on their hands, let alone two, without being able to drop them at their parents’ right away or having to run for their lives. Maybe Dean was always so protective towards kids, he just never had the opportunity to show it outside life and death situations (or towards anybody else than Sam). Or maybe it’s because the girls have about four years age difference between them and the similarity doesn’t end there. Willow’s protective streak isn’t defiant, like Dean’s had been (still is), but her silent watchfulness tugs at Sam’s heartstrings all the same. She probably only fell asleep in the same room as them because Lily couldn’t sleep until her sister lay down with her. Now being awake didn’t seem to be so bad in Willow’s book but Lily, like any little kid, grew more cranky the more tired she was, and Willow soon took to ushering her away from them, watching them with wide eyes as if she expected them to hit her for it or worse.

The thought turns Sam’s stomach, and he knows the way Willow still followed their every movement and every gesture over her sister’s sleeping form for a while, wary as a fox kit, will haunt him for weeks like few monsters could.

“So what do you want to do?“ he shrugs helplessly.

Dean watches the girls for a while longer, then turns to him. Takes a breath, something almost sheepish, almost hopeful, in his expression.

“How about we keep them?”

…

It took them over two months to track the creature down, from the moment they picked up the over a year long trail of disappearing children. All of them vanished at full moon. All of them but one turned up elsewhere in the U.S., anytime between four days and over a month later, often starved. Some didn’t remember anything of the time they were lost. Some spun wild tales of what happened to them, including magic lands and other planets, their favourite books and movies and their own fantasies and fears coming alive.

The remaining one was found dead – an eight-year-old boy huddled by a road, too far from civilization in too cold weather.

The thing is, most monsters don’t travel. This one did, all over, and with the kidnappings a month apart it was impossible to tell where the next one will be.

Until they found out children weren’t the only thing that disappeared along its way. There were pets, too, and more often than every full moon. Birds and rodents, mostly. Some cats. It let them map out the creature’s movement much closer, find out that whatever it was, it moved roughly as fast as they did in the Impala when they didn’t rush anywhere. It also avoided bigger towns and did its best to avoid visiting one twice, at least anytime soon.

Slowly they put together a picture of a thin guy riding a flashy white Bentley, selling feather and bone charms in diners and bars along the way.

Curiously, they didn’t seem to do anything. They were just very pretty.

Even more curiously, nobody could describe the guy. He was slight, not very tall, had a charming smile (and pretty hands, as almost every woman they asked and a few guys told them), but nobody got closer than that. Nobody was able to give them his eye color or features and his hair color seemed to differ in every town.

They probably would have missed the right town that evening before the full moon if it wasn’t for the bright blue parakeet Sam spotted on a fence they drove past.

The same bright blue parakeet that went missing two days ago in another town.

It wasn’t so hard to find the Bentley in the parking lot of the nearest motel after that, wait until the monster or witch or whatever it was went out hunting for its next victim shortly before midnight and follow it.

It managed to shake them off within fifteen minutes.

Neither of them liked the idea of letting it abduct another kid before they deal with it, but in the end they returned to the motel, empty-handed, just in time to see the creature slip back into its room.

They barged in right on its heels in the sound of a splintered lock.

They still didn’t know what they’re dealing with, so they had everything they could think of with them. However, very few things survive being shot in the heart and having its head cut off the next moment.

This one didn’t, anyway.

They haven’t noticed the two little girls sitting on the motel bed, staring at them with wide eyes, until the monster was dead, its strangely purple blood spilling at Dean’s feet, its head rolled out of sight under the rickety table under the window.

Sam remembers thinking how they must have looked to them, him with a gun, Dean with a bloodied machete – two big, violent men in the room.

Yet the next thing he remembers clearly is Dean kneeling, Lily hanging off his neck, and Willow pressing herself against his own stomach, crying into his shirt.

He remembers the surge of desperate tenderness towards her, the relief they were able to save another two lives.

They got the girls out as fast as they could, even if it meant leaving the body of the monster for authorities to find.

…

That first morning, Sam calls Dean crazy. Then lists all the reasons why adopting the kids is a terrible idea.

Before he knows it, he’s listing all the ways in which their lives will have to change to accomodate two little girls. But it’s not until several hours later, when Dean buys two safety seats and installs them on the backseat of the Impala without a word of complaint, that Sam realizes his brother is serious about this.

It’s not until he spends half an hour spaced out, planning how to convince their respective partners to play dads with them, or at least favorite uncles, that it occurs to him that maybe he isn’t as opposed to the idea as he should be, either.

He dutifully widens his search for the girls’ identities anyway.

Every time a new idea doesn’t pan out, he feels a wash of something that dangerously resembles relief.

 

It’s not just safety seats Dean bought the first day. Lily creeps closer, fascinated by the colourful object in Dean’s hands. It’s a toy rocket, complete with a tiny smiling astronaut in a window. Dean crouches down to her level.

“Come on, kid. It’s for you.“

Lily takes the rocket from his hands as if it was fragile, and stares at it in wonder as if she never saw a toy in her life. Then she looks at Dean as if she was asking what to do with it.

“It’s yours,“ he repeats, his voice gone a little rough. “You can play with it.“

There’s a second longer when she stares at him as if he was a puzzling alien, then she suddenly beams, clutches the toy tighter and lifts it into the air.

“Vrooooom! Whoooosh!“ Holding it high, she runs to her sister, who watches the scene with cautious interest. “Willow! Look! It’s a rocket! It flies into the sky! Vroom!“

Willow glances at Dean and Sam out of the corner of her eye, but whatever she sees must put her at ease, because next she turns her full attention to her sister and the new toy and brightens.

“Into space!“ she trumps.

She gets an action figure of the Spiderman just a little later, but both sisters play with the rocket anyway, making up strange planets where it could land.

It’s not yet twelve hours after they saw the monster who abducted them killed, but they giggle and laugh like normal children. And even though their play resembles what some of the other kids reported, it’s clearly just that: play.

Maybe they really can do this.

 

Some hours later, tired of the endless ‘whoosh’ and ‘vroom‘ and planets full of rainbow unicorns, Sam buys colouring books at the nearest gas station, one for each girl, and a set of crayons to share. Willow immediately becomes immersed in filling the pages with the strangest color combinations.

Lily continues her ‘vroom’s, the rocket occasionally landing on her sister’s book and swept away with an annoyed look that makes the little girl snicker.

Dean nudges Sam.

“You got the nerdy kid, I got the cool one,“ he mouthes and grins wide and proud.

Sam quirks a smile, and then checks Willow’s bent dark head in the rearview mirror.

It’s true, somehow. All the children he knows gravitate towards Dean more than towards him, except for quiet, wary Willow who doesn’t trust either of them but somehow distrusts him less than Dean.

He isn’t going to let her down, ever.

Is he?

 

It’s laughably easy to pass the girls off as theirs at every motel and diner they stop by. If Sam didn’t know any better, he’d say Lily has Dean’s eyes and mouth and their mother’s hair. Willow could be his own copy, even though her hair is a little darker and her eyes have grey mixed in with the hazel.

It feels too much like fate and it makes him uneasy.

Still, when he sees Lily riding on Dean’s hip as if it was her rightful place, he can’t help but smile and snap a picture.

Then Willow’s warm hand slips into his and he squeezes on instinct as if he did just that her whole life, too. Only then does he remember their circumstances and his breath catches in his throat at the show of trust.

Willow’s smile up at him is shy but just as warm as her hand.

 

Dean misses the turn to Jody’s.

Sam relaxes in his seat.

 

They arrive at the bunker late in the afternoon, in amber sunlight slanting over the road. The air is crisp and sweet when they all pile out of the Impala. Lily clings to Dean, Willow clutches Sam’s hand. Both girls stare at the simple entrance as if it was the door to a fairytale palace.

Or, at least in Willow’s case, the mouth of a dragon’s lair.

“Hey. It’s gonna be okay.“

Willow gives him an unconvinced look and adds the other hand to her death grip on him. Then she glances at her little sister and determinedly drags him forward so that she can enter first.

 

They aren’t going to have the time to settle in before they have to explain. This much Sam realizes when the first thing that greets them as they open the door is the sound of merry whistling carrying out of the kitchen.

Sam hesitates at the top of the stairs. Dean nearly walks into him from behind, stopping short of sending him tumbling down, but Sam doesn’t have the mind to answer his glare.

“Dean. You think Gabe and Cas will be alright with this?“

Dean practically rolls his eyes at him.

“Sure will.“

Sam wishes he could share his optimism. Maybe Cas will accept the new role, the way he accepts nearly anything Dean throws at him. Maybe he’ll even like the chance to be a proper parent, after Claire. But Gabriel, that’s a completely different story. Gabriel isn’t father material, not by a long shot – heck, Sam isn’t much of a father material – and even if he wanted to do this, they still don’t see eye to eye on too many things to raise a kid together. And anyway, it is a crazy idea and Sam never came up with a proper way to convince him.

He’s not sure he convinced himself, except that as crazy as it seems, it’s the right thing to do and something he actually, surprisingly, wants.

“Come on, Sammy. Move. They’ll be fine.“

They aren’t fine. When they enter the kitchen, Cas turns his head to greet them. Then rises suddenly, chair scraping on concrete, and that’s not their honorary human, nerdy Cas, that’s the warrior of Heaven Cas staring at them as if some unknown danger walked in with them.

Gabriel is worse. Gabriel takes one look at them and his jaw goes slack.

Then he begins to laugh. And doesn’t stop for a good long while.

Willow presses herself against Sam’s leg.

“Gabe, what the he- What the heck?“ Dean has turned sideways to shield Lily from the angels, the little girl hanging around his neck so tight it’s a wonder she isn’t strangling him. Gabriel howls with laughter.

“La- la- language, Dean!“ he manages, supporting himself on the counter, tears streaming down his cheeks. Sam feels Willow tremble against his leg and it’s enough to make him want to clock his partner in the face. It’s also the thing that prevents him from it, because he’d have to leave her or drag her with him to move close enough.

“This isn’t funny, Gabriel,“ Castiel interjects. Sam would be grateful for his support, but Cas still looks ready for a battle.

Gabriel gasps for a breath.

“It’s not,“ he agrees. “Two world-class hunters neutralized by a couple of little girls? That’s not funny. That’s _hysterical_. Or are you two planning to follow in daddy’s footsteps? Make hunters out of them?“

His lips are twitching as if the mere idea was threatening to send him back into stitches.

“No way,“ Dean answers before Sam can.

Gabriel snickers.

“See? Neutralized.“

Sam finally finds his voice.

“Gabriel. What are you talking about?“

Gabriel grins, feral, eyes twinkling with unholy glee.

“You know they’re changelings, right?“

For a second, Sam freezes. So does Willow – but it doesn’t add up, she’s not-

“Bullshit,“ Dean says firmly, and Gabriel waves a hand.

“Not the slimy, sucky little psychopaths. These are high fae. Sweet little fellows, at least temporarily. Where did you even get two? I haven’t seen their kind on Earth in three centuries.“

Sam draws in a breath, nostrils flaring. Ignoring the niggling feeling of tiny puzzle pieces slotting together at the back of his mind, that itch under his skin that told him again and again that their sudden foray into parenthood was too easy, too nice.

“Gabe, if you’re pulling my leg-“

Gabriel looks him straight in the eye.

“Sweetcheeks, answer me one question: Has it even occured to you to test them for being anything other than human?“

Sam looks at Dean. Dean looks back, just as pale.

Willow tugs at Sam’s hand.

“Let’s leave. Please. He’s nasty.“ Her voice is thin, pitiful, nothing supernaturally compelling in it, just the begging of a terrified child. Sam is tempted, so very tempted to take her and go, forget the whole encounter, forget the doubts, and just be what she needs him to be.

He’s just about lucid enough to realize that leaving before he heard the whole explanation isn’t normal for him. Not to mention leaving Gabriel behind for anyone he knows for less than two days, even if she’s an abandoned little girl.

“I’m sorry, kid,“ Gabriel says, finally completely serious. He pushes himself off the counter – and somehow he suddenly appears taller than he is, bigger, a commanding presence unfurling to fill a room. “You have interfered with an earlier claim. Sam Winchester is mine.”

Sam has just enough time to send his partner a glare before Willow squeezes him even firmer.

“Is not. There was no claim on him. He’s mine.“

Sam feels as if his skin turned to ice, freezing from his feet up to the top of his head.

Gabriel has the grace not to look triumphant as he shrugs and let’s the pressure of his presence dissipate. Just a little guy again, he parks his ass back on the counter and spreads his hands in a ‘there you have it’ gesture.

“Congratulations,“ Dean bits out. “You pulled one over a seven-year-old. I hope you feel good. Sammy, let’s go.“

“Aaand here we have a winner of the getting your head screwed contest,“ Gabriel mutters, loud enough to be heard. Dean sneers at him and turns to leave. Before Sam can make up his mind whether to stop him or to follow, Cas speaks up:

“Dean. Think.“

Dean pauses to throw him a glare over his shoulder.

“I think your brother is an asshole.“

Castiel doesn’t miss a beat.

“He is also correct. These creatures aren’t children.“

Gabriel’s mouth twitches as if he bit into something unpleasant.

“Actually, they are,“ he says. “And if you got them before last evening, they shouldn’t even remember they aren’t human, or yours. I think the little one doesn’t.“

In the pointed silence he lets stretch, Lily’s sobs can be heard, the thin wailing of a child who doesn’t know what’s happening but knows enough to be scared by all the agitated adults around her.

“But you’re too old to forget, aren’t you?“ he looks down at Willow, his expression softer now, almost gentle. “And you’re both too old to have complete control, even at the height of your power. Sorry, kid. You’ll have to let them decide.“

Sam breathes in through the throbbing of _mine_ and _child_ and _protect_ in his chest.

“So how about you start with telling us how this works?“

Willow squeezes again. He tries to ignore it, though he can’t bring himself to let go of her.

“Sure. For one, physical contact makes the effects stronger.“

Sam files the information away, but that is all he intends to do with it for the time being. Unsurprisingly, Dean makes no move, either.

“For two, what you see when you look at them is glamour. I can show you what’s under it. Dean-o, sure you won’t drop the kid once she’s not your blonde little angel?“

“You bet.“

Gabriel snaps his fingers.

Most notably, the girls don’t change into monsters. At least not as far as Sam can see, with Lily’s face pressed into the crook of Dean’s neck and Willow’s not visible from above. But Lily’s fair curls are replaced by white fluff so soft it makes a halo around her head like a faded dandelion, and her arms are a little thinner, a little too wiry for a three-year-old, with skin gray like beech bark dusted with silver. Willow’s hair is straight, long, the color of steel, with oily sheen like crow’s wings.

“Willow. Hey,“ he prompts softly, but she only hides her face in the fabric of his jeans.

He hesitates, then crouches down, forcing her to let go of his leg. She resists at first, still trying to hide, then releases both his hand and his leg at once. Instead she reaches for his face, placing small hands with long, spidery fingers and narrow palms along his jaw in a gesture he can’t comprehend, and finally lets him look straight at her.

She is… still a child to him, first and foremost. Alien, with pointy chin and foxlike, too large eyes, silver-bright in a face that is so dark gray it’s almost black, but she remains, undeniably, a child. She doesn’t look like his little copy anymore, and that feels better. More natural. Her expression is one of desperate effort, of stubborn hope, and it breaks his heart.

“Hey,“ he repeats and goes to hold her shoulders, too bony and fragile under his hands.

He doesn’t expect the hug he gets in return, but he wraps himself around her on instinct all the same.

“You see,“ Gabriel continues, undisturbed by the display, “the fae aren’t too hot on parenthood. The less fun parts of it, anyway. So they use humans the same way cuckoos use other birds. They give you their kid, let you raise them, feed them, then take them back.“

Sam flinches, his protectiveness flaring anew.

“They could try,“ Dean growls from somewhere above him.

Gabriel shrugs. “They won’t have to. Around fifteen, sixteen, a changeling remembers, gets their magic back. And then they decide. If you were good parents, they’ll reward you before they go. Or they may even stay, become mortal. If you were shitty parents, they’ll repay you, too. Curse you, kill you, take your pick. Vengeful bunch, these fae. Even the so-called good ones.” He pauses, smiles. “I like them. Good source of inspiration. Still sure you wanna try, though?“

“You say you can raise them human?“ Dean asks.

“Nah, not really. But close. You can raise them, they can choose to keep some of it, even all of it. They aren’t inherently evil. Or inherently good.“

“But what we feel for them, that we want to keep them, that isn’t natural,“ Sam concludes, wishing he didn’t have to. “They work like something like sirens?“

“Yes and no. For a while, you’ll think they’re all you ever wanted. If they were younger, we wouldn’t stand here and have this conversation, you’d be theirs and screw anyone who wants anything else than praise them and love them with you. You’d be willing to kill for them. Leave your whole life behind. Rings a bell? Anyhow. A siren uses you for fun, but for these it’s just biology. They can’t help it and it hits them, too. They are changed by what you want them to be – or need them to be. Within a month, they’ll stop being so perfect all the time so they’re more like normal kids, and you’ll get your wits back, start wondering why you saddled yourselves with them. Maybe you’ll even want to get rid of them. By that time it will be too late for them, though. They’ll love you as if you were their first ever parents. Will be bound to you till they grow up or you die.“

“Can you suppress the effects? Let us decide with a clear head?“

Gabriel shrugs. “I could break the bond. It’s still mostly magic at this point. But then it wouldn’t matter what you decide. They can’t imprint twice on the same person – and they’re both imprinted on both of you, by the way, just not as strongly on the other one. You can’t just switch them. They can’t get us, either, because they’re not strong enough to ensnare an angel. Without a bond to start them off, they actually are little psychopaths, can’t learn to love anyone. If I clear your heads, the only thing you’ll be deciding is whether to kill them or let them take another poor shmuck who comes along.“

Willow shudders in Sam’s arms and tries to burrow deeper into his embrace.

Distantly, Sam thinks that what Gabriel says is not quite true. With the angels’ abilities, they could make sure the girls will first meet someone who already wants children, can’t adopt for some reason. Arrange it with authorities, too, so that nobody tries to separate the new family.

He doesn’t mention it.

“So. You’re saying they’re actual little kids who’ll grow up right if they’re raised right,“ Dean sums up.

Gabriel shrugs again, smirks, a tilt to his mouth that Sam normally hates because it means he already knows what kind of response he’ll get. “If you ignore the part where they’ll have the worst puberty ever and there’s about eighty percent chance they’ll vanish afterwards, then yep, that’s about it.“

“Then I say we keep them.“

Sam closes his eyes, wishing he could just agree.

“Dean. You love hunting. Are you sure you won’t hold it against them?“

He doesn’t bother asking if Dean will change his mind; he knows he won’t. Once he accepts them, he’ll raise the kids, alone if he has to. Doesn’t mean he’ll be happy about it. Or able to look past the fact the girls aren’t human once the infatuation passes.

Dean bounces Lily, who is still sniffing softly into his neck, a little higher and smiles.

“Pretty sure, Sammy. Yeah, I’ll probably miss it, but I’ve been thinking about a change of pace for a while. Heck, I’ll be forty this year. We’ve been through enough sh- enough bad stuff for a lifetime. We deserve a break. I just never found the right excuse, I guess. Until now.“

Sam blinks.

A normal life – as normal as it can get for them. All his previous tries ended badly, but he never tried alongside his brother. Never thought it could be an option.

“And you, Sammy? We’ll have to get normal jobs. Normal house, so that the girls can invite friends over. You won’t be able to be here all the time. Ready to unbury your nose from the archives?“

Which is a good question. Sam swallows the instinctive yes and tries to think about it, tries to picture a family life without the rose-colored haze that wants him to ignore the exasperation and the worry and the mountains of dishes and laundry he knows will be involved in raising two kids. Thank God they’re both out of diapers.

He tries to weigh any kind of normal job he can have against all the knowledge gathered here, knowledge that can save lives if only somebody gets to it in time.

Thinks about what kind of father he can be, and then tries to imagine ending up childless again some ten years from now.

He turns to Gabriel, wordlessly, and the archangel immediately lifts his hands, palms up. “Don’t look at me, Sambino. You need to decide for yourself what you really want.“

“Yeah, but… Would you raise her with me?“

Gabriel lets his palms slowly drop to the edge of the counter, and even then he takes his time to respond.

“Not a father material, Sam. Too many daddy issues for that.“

Dean snorts. “You could say that about all of us.“

Gabriel shrugs and leaves it without a comment.

“If you go for it, I guess I could help. Hang around sometimes, get them off your hands for a while, stuff like that.” He nods towards Willow. “If she still remembers anything at the end of the month, I can help her get a hang of whatever magic she’ll keep. I could also help with those pesky details like paying the bills if you swallow your pride for long enough. You could drive here instead to work every day. Call it getting paid for public service.“

Sam weighs what was said, and then he weighs the air of indifference Gabriel projects. He hopes the softness in his eyes he sees when his partner looks at the girls isn’t another illusion brought about by fae magic.

“Let’s talk about the details in a month, with clear heads,“ he offers. “I don’t know what kinds of decisions can these two influence.“

Gabriel grins. “Does it mean I can feed you till then?“

“As long as it’s not all sweets.“

At the mention of sweets, Willow turns her head to glance at Gabriel out the corner of her eye.

Sam wonders if it’s an attempt to bond to the archangel, too, or something that fits his own idea of a child. Or maybe even the effect of his own wish she had something in common with Gabriel so he liked her.

He’s going to go crazy if he thinks too hard about every little thing she does from now on.

“So you’re in?“ Dean asks.

Sam takes a breath. Ten years or so of a mostly normal life, side by side with his brother, with the addition of an angel or two. It’s like a demon deal, even if the hell he can expect at the end is non-literal, thankfully.

“Yeah, Dean. I’m in.“

Willow hugs him with renewed force.

“Cas? What do you say?“

And whoever accuses Sam of puppy eyes has never seen Dean trying to keep a family together.

Cas moves, goes to stand in front of his partner, a picture of seriousness. He looks into Dean’s eyes for what seems like an eternity. Then gazes at Lily for just as long. Then back at Dean.

“Dean. I don’t know how to take care of a child.“

Dean laughs breathlessly, warm like he only ever is with Cas.

“I’ll teach you. It’s not that hard.“

Cas tilts his head.

“Do you think Claire will get jealous?“

“Nah,“ says Dean.

“Maybe?“ says Gabriel.

“I don’t know,“ says Sam.

“Look, Claire is an adult now,“ Dean elaborates. “She’ll be alright.“

“She has Jody and the others, too,“ Sam adds.

Gabriel smirks.

“She’s a tough cookie, bro. She’ll rip you a new one if you give up another kid just because she could get jealous. Even if she gets jealous. Maybe especially then. Pick your own side.“

Cas continues staring. It’s a thing he does, sometimes. Sam wonders what he sees. If Dean has ever told him he’s thinking about a different life, or if it was news for him, too. Or maybe if Dean hasn’t told him but he felt it somehow. If he knows Dean well enough to untangle his actual wishes from fae magic.

“Then, yes. I’ll… try.“

Dean actually lets out a little whoop.

Sam thinks he could adopt ten children if it meant Dean will be this happy more often.

By his sappy look, Cas could, too.

Gabriel claps his hands together.

“I think this calls for ice cream in celebration. Pizza and ice cream.“

“Lily is too young to have-“ Sam objects, but before he can finish, Dean boos at him and Gabriel blows him a raspberry. Cas looks vaguely concerned.

Sam laughs and stands up, Willow in his arms.

It is on.

…

_She is bored._

__

_Can you be both bored and giddy with expectation? She can. She is, because she let Lily practise binding on the pretty blue parakeet this evening and it flew away. And now they don’t have anything to play with while they wait._

_See if she’ll let Lily do magic, ever again._

_Or at least a year._

_Maybe a half._

_Anyway. She is bored and Lily is even worse, cranky and whiny, and they’re waiting. She hates waiting. Father promised them a boy, a beautiful boy with hair like black silk and eyes like jewels and a mind full of whole new worlds. They should be here any time now, but she’s telling herself that ever since father left and it’s getting too long._

_They both perk up when there’s a click of the door and their father steps in._

_There’s no boy. No other child, not even a kitten._

_“Willow. We need to leave. Now.“_

_In the cold spring air, Willow can feel all her hairs stand on end. She grabs Lily’s hand blindly._

_What follows is what she doesn’t want to remember, so she doesn’t. She doesn’t, really._

_Afterwards is bad enough. Afterwards there are two mortal men, big and wild and scary, and the veil of invisibility that shrouded her and Lily on the bed melts as father’s blood pools on the carpet._

_She wants to run, hide in the moonlight, but Lily is stock still as if under a spell and there is a closed window between them and the night anyway._

_The men see them now._

_She had thought mortals like these exist only in father’s stories, but here they are, one of them with a blade and furious green eyes and the other one with a weird long gun aimed at them and Willow can’t remember a single spell that she could use on them._

_Father can’t protect them anymore._

_Father is dead._

_There’s a hollow inside her now instead of the love she felt for him. She’s only half herself, and all the half that remains is good for is to be terrified._

_Lily moves. Her hand slips from Willow’s numb grasp, and then she’s out of bed, picking her way to the man with the blade like a traveler following a will-o’-the-wisp._

_Willow watches her with horror, her throat too dry to even call after her, certain she’ll see her sister’s end the same way she saw (refused to see) her father’s._

_But the man stands still like dead wood and there’s a song in the air, a tendril after tendril of a binding spell, subtle and beautiful and_ strong. 

_Lily, who couldn’t hold a parakeet a few hours ago, is leashing a human, note by note, and Willow gapes._

_The man is shivering where he stands like a stag ready to bolt, and the other one is shaking his head as if trying to shake away a dream, and Lily shimmers and changes, taking on a glamour so thick Willow can barely recognize her-_

Oh.

_Father told them, once, what he saved them from._

_What can save them now that he’s gone._

_Lily doesn’t seem to notice when she walks through their father’s blood, her bare feet leaving purple footprints on the carpet as she comes near her prey. She looks just as enchanted as the man is, as if nothing else existed besides them._

_She lifts her arms to him and he kneels, soft wonder on his face, the crude blade useless at his side._

_But there’s two of them, and the other one is far from caught._

_“Dean, what- That’s not-“_

_He’s dazed, but not enough, blinking and aiming in Lily’s direction._

“Dean.“

_She watches in despair as her sister focuses more and more on the kneeling man, the spell wrapping around them both, letting the other mortal slowly come to his senses. She watches him grit his teeth, move aside, further out of Lily’s influence. His hands are getting too steady, he’s not going to hesitate long-_

_Willow swallows, and stands, and stumbles nearer, and sees the gun swivel and point at her._

_Whatever nature took Lily to guide her, there’s nothing coming to her, nothing that would help her own feeble attempts at binding, but she has to try._

_She isn’t going to watch Lily die._

_She swallows again and looks the man in the eyes._

_They aren’t cold._

_They’re angry and determined. And hesitant. And kind. The longer she looks, the more she_ sees- 

_It wouldn’t be so bad, maybe, to be bound to this one. To be cared for and protected and-_

_Loved._

_He owes it to her, she thinks fiercely, for taking her father from her._

_He has a good heart and a beautiful soul, more vibrant than anything she’s ever seen._

_She takes a step closer and he shakes his head, his gun lowering a bit before aiming back straight at her._

_“What-“_

_She can feel the glamour starting to shimmer around her, without her placing it there._

_It’s the night of the full moon. She is at her strongest and this is, after all, her nature._

_Encouraged, she makes another step._

_She will forget her father if she does this._

_She must do it if she wants to live._

_She raises her hand, and gently touches the man’s wrists, and guides the gun down, down, until it hangs limply at the man’s side and his expression goes soft and awed._

_She can feel the hollow inside her being filled with him, the fierceness and the thoughtfullness and the loyalty-_

_He’d never forget his family, so she doesn’t, either, and as the magic lets her borrow his heart, she feels like a mortal would feel in her place, the loss, the horror, the relief of survival. The fear that the morning light will break the spell and these men, these hunters, will see the truth of them. It’s not over yet._

_A sob tears out of her throat, startling her. Suddenly she’s feeling too much and her body reacts in ways she doesn’t know._

_Overwhelmed, she hides her face in his shirt and weeps._

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t remember if I ever saw the Winchesters use a silencer, but they have to use it sometimes in populated areas, right?  
> It’s not as if they only used legal arms, anyway. :)
> 
> Feedback of any kind will be treasured.
> 
> Particularly, how was Gabriel’s infodump? Boring? Engaging? Understandable? Not so much?  
> And how do you feel now at the end of the story?  
> What do you think happens in a month? Later?
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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